


Tired of All the Troubles (they’ve been wasting my time)

by asexualjuliet



Category: Everwood
Genre: Avatar: The Last Airbender References, Bright and Delia make chocolate chip cookies how sweet is that, Gen, Mild Swearing, Post-episode s03e21: Oh the Places You’ll Go, Uhhh if you’re Mary don’t read this there’s hella spoilers for the end of season 3, also if you read this as ship i’ll steal your goddamn kneecaps wtf please don’t do that that’s nasty, been thinkin bout bright and delia’s interactions since i watched 1x10, ben wyatt voice: it’s about the little sister/big brother dynamic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:00:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25214320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asexualjuliet/pseuds/asexualjuliet
Summary: “Ephram’s in Europe,” Delia says when she opens the door, and Bright feels suddenly idiotic.“Oh, shit, I forgot—” he starts, before remembering that Delia is, despite her infinite wisdom, a child, and he can’t quite remember when over the course of childhood swearing becomes acceptable. “Don’t tell your dad I said that.”“I’m not five,” she says, looking at Bright as if he’s the dumbest person in the world. “I know the word ‘shit.’”Bright and Delia make chocolate chip cookies and it’s cute I promise
Relationships: Bright Abbott & Delia Brown
Kudos: 1





	Tired of All the Troubles (they’ve been wasting my time)

**Author's Note:**

> Thinkin bout Bright Abbott... feelin emo.  
> Before watching 3x20 and 3x21 tonight, I was considering writing Bright talking to Hannah about Rose’s cancer, but then things got so weird between them with Hannah dating Topher and Bright realizing he likes her, and I was trying to figure out a way to make it work and my brain just went “Delia”
> 
> Title from “The Middle of Starting Over” by Sabrina Carpenter
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!

“Ephram’s in Europe,” Delia says when she opens the door, and Bright feels suddenly idiotic.

“Oh, shit, I forgot—” he starts, before remembering that Delia is, despite her infinite wisdom, a child, and he can’t quite remember when over the course of childhood swearing becomes acceptable. “Don’t tell your dad I said that.”

“I’m not _five,”_ she says, looking at Bright as if he’s the dumbest person in the world. “I know the word ‘shit.’”

Well, that answers Bright’s question. He makes a mental note: _age twelve - swearing is allowed._

“Oh,” is all Bright can think to add, and then he just stands there like an idiot, because the whole reason he came over in the first place was to get out of the house, and he really doesn’t want to go back home. 

Delia looks at him. “Do you want to make chocolate chip cookies with me?”

Bright’s a bit taken aback. “Me?” he says, like a fucking idiot. 

Delia looks amused. “Dad says I’m not allowed to use the oven without supervision.”

“Ephram’s in Europe,” she adds, just in case Bright hadn’t gotten the memo the first time, “but I think you count as supervision.”

Bright shrugs. _Eating cookies_ is definitely above _going home and probably crying some more_ on his list of things he would like to be doing, so he nods. “Yeah,” he says. “Sounds cool.”

-

“I’m not sure you should count as supervision,” says Delia, giggling, as Bright attempts to clean up the flour he’s spilled on the kitchen counter. 

He gasps dramatically, making Delia laugh even harder. “You _wound_ me, Delia Brown!” he says, but he starts laughing before he’s even done with the sentence, and there’s flour everywhere, on Bright’s cheek, on Delia’s nose, all over the kitchen counter, but it’s okay, because Bright’s actually _happy_ for the first time in a while. 

-

“Do you want to take some home?” Delia asks when the cookies are out of the oven. 

“Nah,” Bright says, sitting at the counter as Delia handles the hot cookies. “You’re the mastermind behind the operation, you should have them.”

“And,” he adds as an afterthought, “we’ve already got enough cookies and pies and shit at home.” 

There’s a sick feeling that forms in the pit of Bright’s stomach when he remembers the pile of food sitting in the kitchen at home. As much as Hannah (the thought of whom only adds to the nauseous feeling in his stomach) had tried to organize the gifts, she couldn’t fit everything in the fridge and cabinets, and the big pile of food on the Abbotts’ kitchen island is currently serving as a big “your mom has cancer!” reminder for Bright. Just one of the many reasons he had to get out of the house. 

Delia’s expression goes serious for a moment. “I’m sorry about your mom,” she says, “you must be really scared.”

And _God,_ isn’t that ironic? The twelve-year-old kid who lost her mother before she hit third grade is standing here comforting _Bright,_ who’s turning twenty next week and still can’t even think about the word _cancer_ without crying. 

“Yeah,” is all he says, trying to force the tears back so he doesn’t cry in front of Delia, who’s looking at him with the most sympathetic eyes, and —

Shit, he’s crying. Not the full-body sobs of Colin’s death or the silent tears of every night after, but quiet catches of his breath, tears rolling down his face. He turns away from Delia in a last-ditch effort to protect his dignity — he’s eight goddamn years older than her and he’s sitting here crying like a baby, for God’s sake — but she just walks up to him and wraps him in a hug. Sitting down, he’s just the right height to rest his chin on her shoulder as he wraps his arms around her, soft and warm and full of goodness. 

“It’s okay,” she says quietly, reassuringly. “Your mom is awesome, she’s gonna be okay.” 

Bright half-laughs into Delia’s hair, waiting a second before pulling away from her to wipe his eyes. 

“Thanks, Delia,” he says. She just nods. 

“Do you think the cookies are still too hot?” she asks. Bright shrugs, getting up and popping one in his mouth before spitting it back out into his hand almost immediately. 

“Fuck!” he says, before he can stop himself — he knows _shit_ is okay but he’s not sure if _fuck_ is off limits — because the cookie is indeed too hot, but Delia just giggles. 

“I’m guessing that means yes?” she says, through her cute little smile. 

“Yup,” Bright confirms, attempting to take a tiny bite of the cookie so as not to burn his mouth. 

Delia looks at the clock. “Avatar: the Last Airbender is on,” she says. “Do you wanna watch it with me while the cookies cool down?”

And two years ago, Bright wouldn’t have even considered it. But he can barely see that version of himself anymore — football star, prom king, had a shit-ton of friends and the perfect all-American family. 

All that’s left is the Bright of 2005, who was rejected from four colleges, has a dead best friend and a mom with cancer, and who is definitely going to go watch Avatar the whatever with Delia Brown. 

“Is that the one with the arrow kid?” Bright asks, searching the back of his mind for vague recollections of surfing through Saturday morning cartoons. 

“His name is Aang,” says Delia. 

“Is he the last airbender?” Bright asks, whatever the fuck an “airbender” is. 

“Yeah,” says Delia. “Come on, I’ll explain during the commercial breaks.”

Bright shrugs before following Delia to the Browns’ living room. That’s good enough for him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> All mistakes are my own, please let me know if you see any!
> 
> Kudos/Comments are greatly appreciated!


End file.
